


could see for miles, miles, miles

by stormss



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, Declarations Of Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Firefighter Carlos Reyes, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, literally...every fluffy cliche you can think of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormss/pseuds/stormss
Summary: And so it's easy to say that Carlos cherishes the holidays; he loves slipping away from the chaos of his life and going home, though it often brings with it a whole different flavour of mayhem. But he loves it, loves his family—even if they constantly pester him about settling down, about finding someone nice, about finally letting them set him up with so-and-so's nephew or grandson. He's fully preparing to face it head-on again this year.Until TK walks into his life.*Or, TK pretends to be Carlos' boyfriend when he goes home for the holidays. It doesn't goquiteas expected.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 28
Kudos: 200
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	could see for miles, miles, miles

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays! 
> 
> i've gone through several variations of this story, and with finals i wasn't sure if i'd be able to find time to work on it. but i did some brainstorming, thought about throwing firefighter!carlos into the mix, and found a few days to do nothing but write, and, well—here we are! 
> 
> the title comes from _holocene_ by bon iver. come say hi on [tumblr!](https://reyesstrand.tumblr.com/)

Ever since he was young, Carlos has loved the holidays. 

He loves the smell of fresh pine and the slight chill to the air; he loves the big family gatherings, where the house feels cramped, each room heavy with warm spices and sage and candles. As he grows older, he loves the way that he can practically feel the excitement radiating off his nieces and nephews and younger cousins. He loves watching the way traditions seem to flex and flow through the years; things change, naturally, like how his dad's passing five years ago made it so nobody could ever really stomach attempting to recreate his spiced hot chocolate. 

But some things never fade away, like giving out one gift each on Christmas Eve and wearing itchy, ugly sweaters. The mistletoe rule is taken very seriously in the Reyes household—a rule that's left Carlos slyly wiping sticky lipstick from his cheek on more than one occasion, whenever he gets trapped under a doorway with an aunt or two. 

And so it's easy to say that Carlos cherishes the holidays; he loves slipping away from the chaos of his life and going home, though it often brings with it a whole different flavour of mayhem. But he loves it, loves his family—even if they constantly pester him about settling down, about finding someone nice, about finally letting them set him up with so-and-so's nephew or grandson. He's fully preparing to face it head-on again this year. 

Until TK walks into his life. 

* * *

They meet each other on an admittedly dreary night, where rain falls around them in sheets and soaks through their uniforms. TK almost slips as he runs past him toward the 126's ladder-truck for supplies; Carlos steadies him with a hand to his elbow on instinct, though it isn't quick enough; both of them tumble and land flat on their asses five seconds later. They stare at each other for a long moment before breaking out into matching grins, letting it last for a beat until they remember where they are. 

Even after they disperse back to their respective teams, their friendship seems to naturally progress from there on out.

Ladders 102 and 126 often get dispatched to the same calls, and they all naturally flock together after shifts to decompress. Michelle's the one to properly introduce them, and they talk for hours and hours—at the honky tonk with both of their teams surrounding them, at the food trucks Carlos introduces TK to when he finds out he's only just moved to Austin, at local cafés when they're bone-tired after working twenty-four-hour shifts. 

They click, is the thing. They never really venture into the _something more_ realm after TK admits he's still recuperating from what he dubbed his "nuclear bad" breakup back in New York; Carlos is just happy to have a friend with even more shared life experience, no offence to Michelle. Carlos—well, he just wants to be there for him, and it's nice knowing he has someone like TK to have his back. 

And that's what matters. 

* * *

Carlos wakes up on December 16th with a crick in his neck from passing out on the couch, and he fumbles around for the noise that woke him: his cellphone, buzzing away on the glass surface of the coffee table. 

He barely glances at the screen before he accepts the call, pressing his phone to his ear and answering with a half-asleep, "hello?" 

"Nice of you to finally pick-up," his mom's deadpan comes through, and he can't help but to crack the tiniest of smiles despite the hour and the fact that he'd worked overtime, stumbling into his condo at four in the morning. "It's not good to make your mother worry like that, Carlos." 

"Sorry, sorry." Carlos moves into a sitting position, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "How are you?" 

"Good, baby, thank you," his mom says, before jumping right to the point, in the Reyes-style: "You're coming home on the twenty-third, right?" 

"Mhm," Carlos confirms. "I might get in a little late, but I'll be there." 

He can practically feel his mom smiling through the phone. _God,_ he's missed her; he'd had to work over Thanksgiving and so the last time he made it home was back in late September, to celebrate his sister Camilla's birthday. He smiles to himself as she continues on, picturing her strolling around the living room that, knowing his mother, would already be densely decorated. "Everyone's so excited to see you! And have I mentioned that Mrs. Gonzalez's son is in town?" 

"Mami," Carlos starts, half-pleading, but he can't stop his mother when she gets into her matchmaking mindset. He wishes she'd figure out it's kind of a lost cause; exactly _none_ of his mom's prospects for him have ever been as great as she imagined. 

"He's a _doctor,_ mijo. You should give it a chance," she says, pausing for breath before asking: "Unless you have someone you aren't telling me about?" 

Used to this line of questioning, Carlos makes a noncommittal noise, hoping it's enough. 

He really doesn't want to lie to his mother, but she sounds like she's upping her game from last year, and he has a feeling she'll be this way until he's married. And he loves her for it, he does, because she just wants all of her kids to be happy, but Carlos is—well. He's not the best at the whole dating thing. Sometimes he just wishes he could blink and be in a committed relationship, because he's seen it all: guys unsure about the idea of dealing with a firefighter's schedule, guys scared off by the way he loves too quick and too hard and too out in the open, guys just looking for a hook-up and nothing more. And it's not like he makes it _easy_ for himself, working extra shifts when he can, but—

"—Carlos?" 

"Sorry," Carlos winces at himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can I call you later? Something just came up." 

"Okay," his mom sounds unconvinced—he can picture the face she's pulling at him perfectly. "I love you, sweetheart." 

"Love you too," Carlos says, before swiftly hanging up. He sighs and drags a hand down his face, mind reeling with the thought of dealing with another Christmas being set up with someone he has zero chemistry with. 

His phone lets out a little _ding,_ then, and he glances down to see a text notification from none-other than TK.

> _hey! the cafe on third has those chocolate monstrosities you love. wanna join me and paul?_

At least he can always rely on his best friend. 

> **_be there in thirty._ **

He beelines for the shower, and just focuses on the way the hot water relieves some of the tension from his shoulders. 

* * *

Twenty-eight minutes later, he's strolling toward TK and Paul, who have claimed the corner table of the café they've all started frequenting. Carlos brightens instinctually when TK catches his eye and waves him over. He's working on what seems to be an iced latte, seemingly undeterred by the cooler temperatures. 

"You remembered my coffee order?" Carlos asks, when TK pushes a steaming mug toward him as he sits down. 

"Duh," TK says, swirling the contents of his own drink around with a metal straw. He takes a long sip, and Paul greets Carlos before he continues on with his story, Carlos cupping his palms around his coffee. TK kicks at his foot under the table, a menace as always. 

"So, Reyes," Paul says, turning to him. "We all saw that factory fire on the news, looked like a real shit-show." 

Carlos nods, leaning back a little in his chair. He jumps into the story from the tiring call the night before; it'd been close a couple of times, but thankfully everyone had walked out unscathed from the blazing building. It'd been the alternate 126 crew that'd shown up to help them, and so he fills TK and Paul in the best he can. Naturally, the conversations drifts toward everyday nonsense, and once there's nothing but crumbs left on their plates, the holidays come up. 

"I'm heading home," Carlos mutters, resting his chin in his palm and looking to Paul with a questioning look. 

"Same here. Chicago awaits," Paul shrugs, wiping his hands with a napkin. His eyes back drift to Carlos, observant as always. "I gotta admit, man, you don't look too excited." 

TK nods, arms folded atop the table. "Did something happen?" 

"No! No, I mean," Carlos clears his throat, and looks between the two men. "I just—I love my family, of course I do. And I can't wait to spend time with them. But—"

TK cocks an eyebrow at him. Drawing out the vowel, he echoes, " _but?_ " 

"They always try to set me up with someone this time of year," Carlos admits. "By the sounds of it, I'm marrying a doctor by New Years." 

Paul snorts a little, eyes flitting between Carlos and TK. 

Carlos shrugs and feels the corner of his mouth turn up into a smile, aiming on lightening the mood. He knows it's not the worst thing he could experience in visiting his family, but still. It manages to worm under his skin and unsettle him completely. He watches as TK brings a thumb to his bottom lip, a habit he's noticed. 

"What if you just told them you're seeing someone?" Paul asks. "Then they can't press you to get with someone else." 

"Tried that three years ago," Carlos sighs, bringing his mug to his mouth to down the last of the sweet dregs. "They knew I was lying within the first ten minutes, and then started telling me all about how some coworker's son just came out and was single." 

He punctuates it with an exasperated sigh, Paul mirroring him. After a moment, though, TK suddenly perks up, his eyes lighting up in a way that only happens when he's got an idea. 

"Those looks of yours never lead to anything good," Paul mutters, clearly picking up on the mischievous twinkle, too. 

"Rude," TK says, before he meets Carlos' eyes. " _I'll_ be your boyfriend." 

If he'd still been drinking his coffee, Carlos is sure he would've spit it out. 

"What, you mean pretend to be dating?" Carlos asks, at the same time Paul mutters, "about time," under his breath. 

TK just shoots Paul a look that's all narrowed-eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Paul lifts his hands in a mock surrender, and TK's gaze moves to Carlos. 

"Don't you have plans of your own, though?" Carlos asks, slowly shaking his head. "I can't ask you to skip out on your family." 

"Mom's in London on business, so I already promised to be in New York with her for Hanukkah next year," TK says, dragging his finger through the condensation on his glass. "And dad's working, we were just going to get takeout or something anyway. It shouldn't be an issue, Carlos, if you want me to help you." 

He starts lamenting about the wild backstory they could create, mostly thinking out loud about the ridiculous cuteness they could get up to at his family's home. 

"You don't have to do this for me," he mutters, physically unable to look up from his hands. He's still internally reeling over TK's enthusiasm at the idea of helping him; he doesn't have to, and yet here he is, talking about matching sweaters and holding hands and—and it's too much. 

"I want to, though," TK says quietly, as if they're the only people in the room. "You'd do it for me, Carlos." 

Carlos just stares hard into TK's eyes, his best friend unrelenting in his returning stare. 

Paul coughs. 

"It could work," Paul says, dragging their attention away form each other. "I mean, you're basically attached at the hip already. Just throw in some lovey-dovey shit, I'm sure it'll get your family off your back for a while."

TK juts his thumb toward Paul and nods, emphatically agreeing. 

Carlos just takes a deep, _deep_ breath. And then, he slowly nods. 

"Great! So, formally," TK pauses to dramatically clear his throat, reaching across the table to take Carlos' hand in his. "Carlos Reyes, will you be my boyfriend?" 

His heart flutters a bit, though he shakes it off and huffs a laugh. "Yeah, yeah. I take you, Tyler Kennedy Strand—" he grins at Paul's snort, and TK's seemingly instinctual nose-scrunch, "—to be my boyfriend, so we can lovingly trick my family." 

TK fully smiles at him, eyes crinkling in the corners. Carlos can't help himself from smiling right back.

Paul sighs the sigh of the long-suffering, and mutters something about helpless idiots. 

* * *

"So, are we at the _I love you_ stage yet?" TK asks, fiddling with the radio dial. "Or are we still working up to that?" 

"Um," Carlos hesitates, fingers curling tighter around the wheel, pointedly keeping his eyes on the road. "We probably said it already, right? If I'm bringing you home?" 

TK nods, seemingly pleased by the indie-pop station he's landed on, bopping his head along to the song. "Makes sense." 

It's been like this for the past few days, as they've tried to flesh out what TK's been referring to as their "epic love story for the ages." They'd awkwardly practiced holding hands and being more in each other's space; they'd spent a night at Carlos' place, sharing childhood stories that partners would probably know about each other. The night before, Carlos texted his mother and asked if she would mind him bringing someone special home. 

He'd promptly been on the phone with her for half an hour after that, as she demanded to know everything about his beau. 

So, it's going well. At least, that's what Carlos is telling himself. 

The Reyes family home is just barely outside of Austin, and with it being December, the sky's shaded indigo and deep grey by the time they reach the street. Carlos slows the Camaro to a crawl, and audibly inhales; TK whips his head to the side and wordlessly reaches over to take Carlos' hand. 

"Hey, I know this is going to be a little weird," TK says, eyes searching his. "But I'm still your best friend. I'm here for you, okay?" 

"Thanks, Ty," Carlos whispers, absently running his thumb along the back of TK's hand. By the time they pull up in front of the house, he feels beckoned home by the twinkling Christmas lights. He parks in the driveway, behind his sister's car, and with a nod and a squeeze to his hand, he turns the ignition off. 

His childhood home looks the same as always; the blue siding is mostly unrecognizable with the lack of sunlight, but the twin oaks on either side of the pathway leading up to the house stand strong and sturdy as ever, the trunks wrapped in string lights of their own. The porch light is on, and Carlos wonders why he was ever worrying. It's just like every other time he's come home—just, with TK. 

TK's got both of their bags over his shoulder by the time Carlos snaps out of his little moment, and he smiles at his best friend, grabbing the stack of wrapped gifts from the backseat. TK walks in step with him as they approach the house, his face mostly unreadable, but Carlos carefully tucks the packages under one arm so he has a free hand to squeeze TK's shoulder; the smile he gets in return is small but clearly grateful, and TK makes a sweeping motion with his arm: _lead the way._

He feels weird about it, but he knocks before he opens the door. 

And he grins at the first one to come and greet them. 

"Lady! How's my old girl?" Carlos says with a little laugh, placing the presents carefully on the ground before dropping to one knee, getting both hands in his family's golden lab's fur. She's greying around her eyes and snout, but she's got her tongue out like usual, as if she's smiling at him. He scratches behind her ears and down her back, pressing a kiss to her head before standing. TK grins too—he's made it _very_ clear he's a dog person, and as Lady sniffs him suspiciously, he coos down at her, complimenting the green and red bandanna around her neck. Carlos glances around and takes in the unchanging foyer; the walls covered with photos, like every other inch of the house, and the growing pile of coats, the smaller, neon ones belonging to his nieces. 

He lets out a soft exhale as he gets reacquainted with his surroundings, and then everything starts happening at once. 

A high pitched _"tio Carlos!"_ is the only warning he gets before he's attacked by his nieces, both of them a flurry of hair bows and green tights. He plays up the force of their hug, falling back and letting them clamber up his body. 

"You're growing up too fast," Carlos comments, lightly flicking Rosa's ear and miming stealing Amelia's nose. They start talking all at once: about school, about Santa, about making pancakes but having to wait 'til Christmas morning because mama said so. By the time he's gotten back to his feet, he feels TK's hand on his arm; he turns to him, and puts a hand atop each little girl's head. "Girls, this is my—my special friend, TK." 

"Is he your boyfriend?" Rosa asks, craning her neck to look up at him. "Mama said that he was." 

TK huffs a laugh, and drops down to a crouch, sticking a hand out to her. "I am. And what's your name?" 

Rosa tells him, proudly gesturing to her little sister to introduce her, too. Carlos barely bites back a smile when Amelia latches onto TK the moment he tells them that he's also a firefighter, and _yeah,_ he gets to drive the truck. Sometimes. 

"At least I know my baby's being taken care of at work, too." 

Both Carlos and TK look up at the sound of Penelope Reyes entering the room. Carlos all but melts; he's missed his mom, okay? He just about crushes her in a hug, feeling small and safe again in her arms. She runs a hand in gentle circles between his shoulder blades, before slowly pulling away. "And are you going to introduce me?" 

"Oh, yeah," Carlos rubs the back of his neck, gesturing toward TK. "Mami, this is TK, my boyfriend."

He's proud of himself for not stumbling over it, the word _boyfriend,_ like a magical thing.

"TK, this is my mom," Carlos finishes, moving out of the way to let them shake hands. 

Of course, because it's his mom and TK, it quickly moves into a hug. 

"It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Reyes," TK says sincerely, only for his mom to _tsk_ and hold him an arm's length away. 

"Penelope, honey, please," she replies. "I wish I could say I have heard all about you, but this one told me about you yesterday." 

Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but TK cracks one of those grins—an instant charm for any woman over forty. "Well, that gives us more to talk about. And I look forward to getting to know you properly." 

His mom looks between TK and Carlos, her mouth quirking up in a smile. Her eyes, when they settle back on Carlos, say, _I like him._

He stares down at his feet and smiles. When he looks back up, just over his mother's head, TK gives him a quick wink.

Carlos rolls his eyes, and within seconds, they're being lead through the kitchen to the living room; Carlos gets wrapped up in the smells of his mother's cooking and the decorations that have been used since he was a kid. The girls run ahead of their little group, plaid skirts flowing, and TK knocks his shoulder into Carlos' before he's being pulled along by Penelope. Taking a steadying breath, he strolls into the heart of the house, a few steps behind the others. 

TK's already being paraded around the room by his mom, who's showing off pictures of the family and, knowing his mom, a baby photo or two of Carlos. He's just happy the bulk of his relatives don't show up until tomorrow; only Camilla has arrived with the girls, their other sister Maria sure to make it in some point tomorrow morning with her boys. He catches his sister's eye, finding her lingering by the tree; she helps the girls set up a movie on the TV before stalking over to him, very obviously looking TK up and down as she makes her way across the room. 

"He's pretty," are the first words out of her mouth. She smirks at him, and he rolls his eyes, before they end up in a hug. 

"He has a name, you know," Carlos replies, pushing up the sleeves of his maroon Henley to his elbows. She cocks a brow at him, begging him to continue. "TK. He's a firefighter at another station." 

"Ooh," Camilla waggles her eyebrows suggestively, and Carlos laughs to tamper down his own quickening heartbeat.

"It's not like that, Jesus," Carlos settles in next to his older sister, always lulled to comfort by her presence. He does quick math in his head, telling her, "we've been dating for six months," simply substituting _been friends_ for _dating._ It'd been the simplest thing he and TK could think of a few days ago, figuring at least that way they wouldn't get too tripped up. 

"Six months and you don't even _mention_ him?" Camilla asks, arms crossed over her chest. "Low blow, man." 

"We've been taking things slow," he says with a shrug, looking out across the room to find TK seemingly enraptured in his mother's stories, as she pulls out the photo albums. Lady's clearly taken a liking to him, at least; he sits on the floor with her head in his lap. "But enough about me. How have you been?" 

They talk like that for a little while, Camilla filling him in on her life as a lawyer. By the time she's wrapping up a story about a client TK's come up and introduced himself, and when he tells her that his mom's also a lawyer, they start talking about mostly leave Carlos on the sidelines as they find more in common, like a shared love of bad reality TV and the same taste in actors. He doesn't mind, though—he feels comforted by the fact that TK's hit it off with his family, at least enough so that they don't question his capabilities to find someone worth bringing home. 

It flares up a biting flame of guilt, but Carlos tries with all his might to ignore it. 

* * *

A few hours pass before they're both about ready to drop from exhaustion. 

They sit around and watch old Christmas classics for a while, Carlos blocking out the feeling of TK's thigh flush against his own; he throws his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing TK's shoulder, to really seal the deal. When Camilla gets up to put the girls to bed, they figure it's about time to call it a night for themselves, too.

"We should probably get some rest," Carlos says, as his mom looks up from her crochet. 

"Oh, well. Busy day tomorrow," Penelope nods understandingly, getting to her feet to hug them both. She turns to TK, then, resting a hand against his cheek. "It really is so good to meet you, TK. I hope you'll make yourself at home over the next few days." 

"I will, ma'am," TK smiles at her, before Carlos kisses his mother's cheek and tells her he loves her. He then steers TK away in the direction of his bedroom upstairs. They pause by the guest room, that's slowly become the grandkid's room over the years, to say goodnight. 

They don't say anything as they approach Carlos' room; he hits the light and closes the door and immediately drops onto the bed.

"Well, this is cute," TK says, taking in the dark blue walls and the bookshelves and the band posters. 

"It isn't too much, is it?" Carlos asks, and TK looks at him like he's aware he's talking about his family—about being _here,_ together—and not the room itself. TK puts their bags on Carlos' old desk, and places his hands on his hips. 

"Carlos, I'm fine," TK replies, sincerely. He looks at him expectantly, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. "As long as you are?" 

He just nods in response, drumming his fingers against his stomach. He sits up slowly as his realization dawns on him. 

"I can sleep on the floor, if you want," Carlos says, already gathering up a pillow and moving toward his closet, figuring there's got to at least be an old comforter in there he can use. 

"That'll look suspicious as hell," TK says, crossing the room in three quick strides to put his hands on either side of Carlos' face, making him focus on him. "I'm more than capable of sharing a bed with you, Carlos. It's cool." 

"You're sure?" Carlos asks, his heart randomly and suddenly beating away in his chest. 

"A thousand percent," TK insists, patting his cheek gently before he moves over to his bag; Carlos' cheeks still feel warm, watching as TK pulls out a soft t-shirt and his toothbrush. "Can I—?" 

"It's just down the hall, to the left," Carlos says, pointing toward the door. 

TK lifts his toothbrush in the air in a silent salute, and heads out of the room. Carlos closes his eyes and falls flat back onto his bed, hands over his face. 

* * *

The sleeping arrangements aren't really that strange—whether it's the fact that they're used to sleeping with their teams in the bunks at work, or comfortable with each other from several nights of passing out on the couch together after a shift, it doesn't seem to matter. Carlos gets a decent sleep and wakes up with his face in TK's hair, very carefully rearranging himself so they aren't quite as close, though it's a touch ask on a twin bed. 

He stares up at the ceiling for a few long moments as sunlight slowly filters into the room. 

Eventually, though, he can't ignore his bladder; once he's gone and relieved himself, he carefully creeps back into his childhood bedroom and is a little pleasantly warmed by the sight of TK: still passed out with his head buried in the pillow Carlos had been using. He's snoring softly, and Carlos smiles at him, unable to help himself as he quietly pulls on a sweater and jeans. He figures TK could use the extra shut-eye, and he slips out of the bedroom. 

The kitchen already smells of coffee, and Carlos kisses his mom's cheek as he passes her where she sits at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out in front of her as she works on a crossword. It feels like he's been momentarily thrown back in time, moving about the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and bypassing the piles of various desserts that are already filling up the counters. 

It doesn't take too long for TK to wake up; he strolls into the kitchen, and it does something to Carlos' heart, then, seeing him sleepily rubbing at his eyes and just _existing_ in the kitchen like he's home. "Morning," TK says, smiling pleasantly at Carlos' mom, before he sidles up to Carlos and slings an arm around his neck. He's a tactile person, always has been, and Carlos is used to the hugs—he curls an arm around his best friend's back, smiling a little as TK squeezes him tight. It's a normal occurrence, really, but he's aware of the way that TK's playing it up a bit; shuffling closer than ever before and tucking his face into Carlos' neck. 

"Aren't you two adorable in the morning," Camilla comments, appearing in the doorway with her hair pulled into a knot on the top of her head. She immediately flocks toward the coffee machine, and he can feel TK smile against his skin, before he pulls away. 

"You know, I could like another Reyes a whole lot more if you made me a cup, too," TK jokes, still lingering in Carlos' space. Camilla barely stifles a smirk as she pulls another mug from the cabinet, Carlos ducking down to press a quick kiss to TK's hair. TK locks eyes with him, and Carlos quirks a brow: _is this okay?_

TK nods, pressing his lips to the hinge of Carlos' jaw, instantly setting his skin aflame. 

* * *

The rest of the day passes quickly; Carlos finds himself at home in the kitchen with his mom and aunts, as they slowly trickle in. TK seems content with hanging out with the kids and Lady—they play board games and Go Fish, and TK very foolishly offers up piggyback rides, which he ends up doing on-and-off for about an hour. Carlos joins him for a little bit, when they get all bundled up to head outside, planning on throwing a ball around for Lady. They won't spend too long outside, but Carlos likes watching TK's windswept hair and his bright grin, watching as the girls chase after Lady. 

He excuses himself to go back to helping in the kitchen; he's chopping veggies and shredding chicken and when Maria shows up with her husband and sons in tow, the girls abandon TK for a little while to see their cousins. TK comes up to him, offering his help. 

"Really, Ty?" Carlos asks, looking at him knowingly.

"What! I can totally, like, chop something," TK says, shrugging. 

Carlos laughs, but passes over a knife and makes space for him at the counter, placing the bowl of veggies and herbs he's slowly working through between the two of them. 

It's nice, working in silence, comfortable with one another. TK isn't actually terrible, though his reputation at the firehouse precedes him; it's tough being left alone in a kitchen when you're the firefighter who found a way to nearly burn water. 

They snack on stuff as they go, as Carlos figures most families do—it's mostly the sweets that capture their attention, which leaves Carlos dealing with the biggest dilemma of his life: TK with a tiny bit of powdered sugar at the corner of his mouth, unknown to him as he keeps talking. 

"Hang on," Carlos murmurs, turning so they're fully facing one another. TK's eyebrows knit together as he opens his mouth to question him; Carlos just reaches up and wipes the sugar away with his thumb. Both of them go completely silent, and it's amplified by the fact that they're _alone,_ everyone either in the living room or helping with getting items from cars as they pull up. 

They're a breath away, and Carlos feels his heartbeat in his _ears,_ and he realizes how easy it would be to just...kiss him. TK's looking at him in the same way, eyes very obviously moving between his mouth and Carlos' eyes. 

But he just—he jumps back. 

"Shit, I—" 

"Sorry—" 

TK steps back, too, quiet as he scratches the back of his neck. "I'm going to, um—I'm going to get ready. See if your mom needs help." 

"TK..."

His best friend's gone before he can manage to say anything else. 

* * *

Carlos tries not to let anything show on his face as he finishes in the kitchen; his mom doesn't seem to notice anything, before she eventually shoos him away to get cleaned up for dinner. 

He goes, locking himself in the bathroom. He splashes water on his face and sorts out his curls. The house feels a little more crowded, now, as the last of the family starts making their way over, and Carlos takes a deep breath once he's in his room. 

It's where he finds TK, sitting on the edge of the bed, his phone in hand. 

He looks up when Carlos enters and there's a slight flush to his cheeks. Carlos wonders for a second if he's going to ask about bailing, when he finally looks down and realizes TK's in his ugly sweater—the tradition for the Christmas Eve dinner in the Reyes household. 

"Ty," he starts, but Carlos doesn't know where to go with it. 

And TK does smile at him, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll let you get changed." 

Carlos just snaps his mouth shut, and nods. TK brushes past him as he leaves the room, and Carlos closes his eyes. He only lets it last for a few seconds; he searches through his duffel and pulls out a nicer, clean pair of pants, along with the sweater that matches TK's at least in terms of the colour scheme. 

He feels his stomach swoop despite himself at the thought of TK's excitement over finding the sweaters, and slowly comes to terms over how screwed he is. 

* * *

Penelope Reyes is anything but low-key when it comes to the holidays. 

The table spans most of the dining room, reserved for get-togethers like these. There's a dark red tablecloth spread out, the setting decked out with candlesticks and garland and the nice silverware. Carlos lets his eyes linger on TK as he chats with Camilla and lets Rosa hang out atop his shoulders from across the room, and he—he's beautiful, laughing and fitting into the fold of his family. The guilt that's been working at a low-simmer under his skin flares up again. He just—he hates lying to his family, especially about this, especially about _TK._

Maria comes up to him, then, and gently elbows him in the side. "You're in deep, huh?" 

"Shut up," Carlos whispers back, aiming for playful. 

Her words echo through his mind though, because, yeah. He _is_ in deep. And he doesn't know what to do about it.

* * *

After dinner, and after each person has opened one gift, Carlos sits amicably at TK's side. Camilla, Maria, and her husband James are all on toy-construction duty—each of them fiddles with the impossible metal twist-ties on the back of every package. _Christmas Vacation_ plays at a low volume on the TV in the corner of the room, capturing most of the family's attention. 

It happens kind of quickly, is the thing, and Carlos isn't thinking of it when he tries to get TK to act normal with him again; he gets up and strolls to the other side of the room, pulling TK along with him. 

"What's up?" TK asks, voice low, both of them looking at photos for cover. 

"Are we okay?" Carlos asks quietly, and TK looks affronted. 

"' _Are we'_...Carlos, of course we're okay," TK says. But he moves a step closer, and whispers: "But I think we—we really have to _talk,_ man." 

It's the last thing either of them says to one another, before Carlos' great-aunt Lena points out something that makes it so he can feel his heart practically jump out of his chest. Because she makes a noise, a well-meaning boast, pointing out the mistletoe that is, of course, above TK's head. 

Because why wouldn't it be? 

The family starts making some noise, always like this when people don't immediately give in to the rules of mistletoe, and Carlos wants to let the floor eat him whole. TK just looks at him and, because they read each other like the backs of their own hands, gives him a subtle nod. When Carlos does the same motion back, he watches as TK leans in; he knows they can't exactly go for the cheek kiss, not when they're claiming to be in a six-month relationship, and so Carlos barely catches his breath and closes his eyes before he feels TK's hands framing his face. A second later, his mouth is suddenly on his, and Carlos just thinks, _oh._

It's over before it even starts, but Carlos feels like he's on stable ground for the first time in his life. 

TK's eyes are still closed when they part, but when they slowly blink open, Carlos realizes he's still got his hands on TK's waist, his thumb rubbing gently against his hip. They stare at each other, eyes shining, and Carlos forces them to stay in place until one of his cousins jokes about getting a room—it tells him they've at least sold it, that their stare of post-first-kiss realizations can be passed off as something a blissfully in-love couple would do. TK runs his thumb along his jaw, drops his hand to gently scrape his blunt nails along his nape, before he offers him a small smile and turns away to probably find someone, anyone, to talk to so he can escape the moment. 

All Carlos knows is that he is so incredibly _fucked._

* * *

"Thought I'd find you out here," Camilla says, and Carlos doesn't even flinch from where he's staring off into space in what used to be his dad's designated chair on the porch. 

"Needed some air," Carlos mutters, finally glancing at his sister when she drags a chair of her own over to him. She hands him a beer, and they clink their bottles. 

They don't say anything for a long time, but Carlos knows he doesn't actually _have_ to say anything—his sister's always been able to read him, the same way he can read her. It'd only been a matter of time, really. 

Camilla looks at him for a long moment, before she says, "You two aren't really dating, are you." 

She doesn't even phrase it like a question, ever the observant lawyer. He shivers at the thought of her and Paul being in the same room together. Outwardly, though, Carlos just stays quiet. 

"But you want to date him," Camilla continues, cocking a carefully sculpted brow at him. "Right?" 

Carlos sighs, and bows his head. "Right." 

" _Carlos,_ " she says, sounding a little sad. 

"It's just—we are friends, Cam," Carlos says, finally looking at her properly. "We're best friends. And I didn't realize how much I actually _liked_ him until now." 

"You could've told us," she quietly murmurs, before seemingly reconsidering. "Well, you could've told me or Maria. I understand how it feels, having mom all over you—"

"—it's always been worse for me, though, Cam," Carlos says, staring into her eyes. "Always. And I just thought that—I don't know. Maybe if I had a boyfriend we could just go back to how it was when we were young. And then I realized that I—" 

"Love him," Camilla suggests, voice still quiet, and Carlos licks his lips and stares at his untouched bottle. 

"Yeah," Carlos confirms, because it's true. Might as well get it out there. "But he—he had just gotten out of a relationship when he moved down here, when we met. And he never showed any interest back, so." 

Camilla's quiet for exactly five seconds, before she laughs. 

"I'm sorry," she says, actually wiping at her eyes. "But Carlos? If you think that boy isn't interested in you—hell, if you don't think he loves you back, you're inhaling too much smoke at work." 

Carlos snorts. "You're—"

"I'm what?" Camilla looks at him imploringly, taking a long sip from her beer. When he doesn't come up with answer, she grins at him. "I'm apparently the only one with functioning eyes." 

"I don't want to ruin what we have," Carlos says, quietly, picking at the label on his bottle. 

"You'll never know 'til you know," Camilla replies, and he sighs, sitting back in his dad's chair. "You should tell him. Listen to your big sister, I know what's best." 

"Sure," Carlos snorts, and she just lightly punches him. 

"Just...let me know how it goes, okay?" Camilla looks at him sincerely, and he feels warmth bloom in his chest. "We should talk more, you know? I miss you." 

"I miss you too," Carlos says immediately, because he's been thinking about the same thing.

"Okay, enough with the sappy shit," Camilla mutters, but she still hugs him. Hard. Carlos grips his big sister back, before she lets go. "I should probably go and get my kids to bed, they'll be up at six." 

"That sucks," Carlos says.

Camilla smiles at him dramatically. "Well, you're the favourite uncle, I'm going to make them get _you_ up." 

"You know, I actually wouldn't mind," Carlos admits, finally sipping at his beer. 

"Of course you wouldn't," Camilla grins, before they clink their bottles once more. 

The night stretches out before them, and Carlos feels grounded, feels at home, feels like—like he's in love. And the possibilities feel as endless as the stars in the sky. 

* * *

The next morning is chaotic like all Christmas mornings are; Camilla's true to her promise, only the kids don't wake him until eight. TK actually manages to wake up first, giving him a look that lingers when the girls and Maria's boys pull him out of the room, Carlos groaning a little before following them. 

Coffee is handed out as the kids rip open their presents; Carlos offers to help with breakfast, only his mom ushers him out of the kitchen immediately— _enjoy the holiday with your boyfriend_ , she tells him, and he swallows hard. Eventually, TK steps outside to call his dad, coming back inside a little more visibly calmed and content. Camilla side-eyes him for most of the morning, and after breakfast and the dishes, Carlos asks TK to go on a walk with him. 

TK looks at him questioningly, but just grabs his coat embroidered with _Ladder 126_ over the heart. Carlos grabs his own and they head out, exploring the expansive yard that spills into an area Carlos and his sisters frequented when they were kids; it's a little alcove before the woods become more and more dense, occupied by community embellishments over the years: a handcrafted bench, some playground equipment, greenery that's layered with frost. They settle on the bench after wiping some of the wetness away, close enough for their knees to bump. 

"Merry Christmas, TK," Carlos says quietly, breaking the silence. 

TK smiles at him, and bumps their shoulders. "Merry Christmas to you, Carlos." 

"I can't thank you enough for being here with me, Ty," Carlos looks at him, ready to bare his soul, when TK interjects with: 

"There's nowhere I'd rather be." 

Carlos looks at him with a cocked brow, and TK shrugs.

"I mean, of course I miss my mom and dad, and the team. But Carlos—" TK stops, playing with his own fingers, a nervous tick of his. "I didn't think that this would be so fucking _hard_ because I. Well. I'm kind of in love with you." 

Carlos feels like the sun's cracked open to shine down on them, illuminating them both in gold. 

"What?" He asks softly, his heartbeat quickening. 

"I _love_ you, Carlos," TK says, more confidently, eyes meeting his. "And I—I didn't realize how much until I spent these past couple of days with you." 

"But I thought that we..." Carlos drifts off, unsure how to bring up the near-kiss in the kitchen, and the subtle avoidance of each other after. 

"I thought you wanted to be friends," TK shrugs. "I thought I was hopefully reading into things, and—" 

Carlos laughs, just a little, before taking TK's hand. "I thought _I_ was reading into it. TK, I love you so much I can't even handle it, sometimes." 

"You—really?" TK asks, clearly searching his expression for any signs of a lie. "You aren't bullshitting me?" 

"Of course not! TK, I didn't realize how deeply I loved you until I saw you here with my family, and realized how sad I was over the fact it wasn't _real,_ " Carlos says, squeezing TK's fingers with his own. "I—I want to be with you. I want for us to be together."

TK fucking _beams._

"I just really didn't want our first kiss to be _that,"_ Carlos admits, thinking back on the night before. TK knocks his shoulder into Carlos'.

"Well, how about a redo?" TK asks, and Carlos feels like he could soar. 

"Yeah?" Carlos breathes, and TK lovingly leans in and murmurs, " _yeah_ , kiss me," and so Carlos does. 

They close the distance between them at the same time, Carlos' hand gently cupping TK's face. He kisses him like he's always wanted to, deep down; he feels TK's hand curl up in the front of Carlos' jacket and he moves even closer, their noses brushing as they find the perfect angle. 

"I love you," Carlos says, smiling into the kiss. 

He feels TK smiling back. "I love you too. So fucking much." 

They kiss again, and again, just because they can. 

Later, they'll stroll back into the house hand-in-hand, and Camilla will grin at him from across the room. Penelope will hug TK so hard he almost comes off the ground when they get ready to leave, making him promise her that he'll make Carlos stay true to his word that they'll visit more often. They'll get dog-piled by the kids, latching onto the both of them, and TK will press a smacking kiss to Lady's head. 

But for now, they have this. And it's all either of them needs. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments/kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> i hope you stay safe, and have a happy holiday season!


End file.
